


The Devil Resides in Human Souls

by almostally



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adaptation, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catholic Church - Freeform, Character Death, Demons, Exorcists, John is a Priest, M/M, Priests, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski are Brothers, Slow Burn, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 02:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6546994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostally/pseuds/almostally
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His fist connected with flesh as the boy in front of him was flung back into the fence behind him. The boy’s two friends rushed to his side, pulling him up as he spat out, “What is this guy, a demon?”” </p><p>--</p><p>Stiles Stilinski is a teenager with a natural gift to get himself in trouble. Despite that he tries his best to meet the expectations of his twin brother Scott and Priest John Stilinski, who acts as their guardian, until he finally learns about the dark secret behind his origin.</p><p>Based on the anime Blue Exorcist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Devil Resides in Human Souls

**Author's Note:**

> So this is pretty much exactly the plot of the first episode of Blue Exorcist, but I've changed the characters to Teen Wolf because Rin reminded me of Stiles and it's a great story? I'll be changing it to add Sterek because I can so it'll vary more from the original anime further on. 
> 
> I'm not sure how quickly I'll be updating but I'll try to get a chapter out weekly
> 
> Derek and the others will be joining in Chapter 3, so don't worry that they're not here yet. Also I promise this has a happy ending and I don't really do /dark/ fics so this will be pretty humorous at times, hopefully
> 
> If you want to watch the original anime, Blue Exorcist should be on Netflix. I would highly recommend it!
> 
> Also: I don't have a beta or anything so if there is anything I should fix, please let me know!

“Stay calm! Focus on the hymn!”

The hooded figures nervously glanced at each other; sweat trailed down their foreheads as they clasped their hands in front of them. The chant started anxiously but continued on steadily. Their eyes focused ahead at the man commanding them.

A choked scream broke their focus and heads whipped towards the source. They watched in fear as one of their own tore back his head in pain. His eyes rolled to reveal white and blood streaked down his face, leaking from his eyes and nose. The chants abruptly cut off as he exploded into blue flames.

“You must keep chanting!” their leader commanded. Old and white haired, he appeared small before the crowd of monks. As the blue-engulfed monk dropped and the flames started to subside seconds later, the chant continued in soft unison, fear steady among the room.

After only seconds another monk exploded into flames, followed by another as the room began to be bathed in the blue light on monks falling.

“Father, please,” the monk next to the leader begged, putting an arm forward as if to defend him from the flames. “Step back!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” he bellowed over the chaos. “If we succumb to this evil now, then who will be left to defend Assiah?”

As soon as the words escaped his mouth, fear clouded his face, contorting his features. He screamed at the start of the incredible pain filling his body, blood beginning to run down his face like the others. The monks stared in terror as their leader burst into the blue flames before their eyes, the explosion knocking them to the ground.

“Damn you, cursed demons,” he groaned out as the hall exploded with light, and he fell.

\--

His fist connected with flesh as the boy in front of him was flung back into the fence behind him. The boy’s two friends rushed to his side, pulling him up as he spat out, “What is this guy, a demon?”

“Holy crap, Matt,” his friend said, pulling him to his feet and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “I’m telling you, he’s bad news!”

Matt’s other friend helped to pull him along, escaping from the tennis courts they were in. Stiles looked down at his white tennis shoes instead of at their retreating backs. He scuffed his feet at the bloody feathers that were underneath his shoes.

“Who are you calling a demon?” he muttered to himself, wiping at the blood trailing from his noise with the back of his hand. “You assholes are way more demonic than me.”

He winced as he drug his hands across his face, looking down to see the damage. Blood that definitely didn’t come from his nose was staining his gloves already. _Crap, I did it again,_ he groaned internally. He startled as a pigeon flew past his head, and he stood there asking himself what he was even doing as he watched it fly further away.

\--

“O Straying Lamb. Confess thy sins and pray for forgiveness.”

Stiles groaned, his head propped up on his hands as he stared ahead in the confession booth. “Yeah, why should I? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Where did you get that cut on your face, then?” the voice on the other side replied. Stiles could practically see the knowing looking on the old man’s face.

“I fell down the stairs,” he retorted, not missing a beat.

“Your clothes are a mess,” the priest continued his point. “Even your back.”

“It was a real mother of a fall,” Stiles tried. He rolled his eyes as he leant his head against the back of the wooden booth. In the relative dark, he couldn’t see the mess he made of his hand.

“And that trace of a nosebleed?”

Stiles groaned, hands scrubbing on his head. “Yeah, well when I fell I bumped into this super-hot girl, you see, and I--”

“What’s that?” the priest shouted, shooting out of the confession booth and facing the scuffed-up boy. “Then let’s go after her, Stiles! Show me where she is!”

Stiles looked out in mild horror at his father, before the priest jumped forward, pulling him out of the booth by his shirt. “Crap, I mean…wrong answer! Admit it, Stiles, you got into another fight, didn’t you?”

Father Stilinski glared down at him in exasperation before sighing.

“I got another disturbing phone call from your job today,” the father started. “They informed me that they have no need for a delivery boy who doesn’t bother to return.”

“So what?” Stiles grimaced. He glared down at his shoes. “There’s no way I could cut it, anyway. As if a guy like me could ever hold down a job.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” John groaned. “The day will soon come when you must leave this monastery and live out on your own. And as your guardian, it’s my duty to see you do so with my own eyes. Or do you just want to become a priest and run this monastery?” His eyes sparkled mischievously with his last statement, a hint of a smirk playing on his mouth.

Stiles’ eyes widened before he spat back, “Take over this crappy church? In your dreams.”

He was cut off before he could continue. His brother came in from the kitchen, calling for their father. Taller than Stiles and wearing clean clothes, they barely looked related let alone twins. Scott had a soft grin on his face, informing John that he’s got his things packed and ready to go. “All that’s left for me to do is carry out my bags in the morning.”

“Well done, son,” John praised.

Scott seemed to then notice Stiles slouching a little ways away and smiled crookedly at him. His warmth was heartfelt as he met his eye. “Hey, Stiles. Did you get into another fight?”

“Shut the hell up,” Stiles groaned, pointedly looking away from him.

“I swear, for a couple of twins those guys couldn’t be more different, could they?” Stiles heard from behind him, recognizing the voice as one of the monks. He reddened, turning around to fight when the monk continued. “Scott might be the younger one but he doesn’t act it. He’s great at sports, always gets straight A’s, and he’s about to start his freshman year at the prestigious True Cross Academy.”

The monk next to him continued his speech, laughing, “Meanwhile, his older brother’s only accomplishment is causing trouble. Stiles, you should really try being like your little brother sometimes. Straighten out your life.”

“I said shut up!” Stiles yelled, his nose flaring with anger but the words lacking true heat. He swung to glare at them, and as he did the heater running beside them shorted out in a small burst of blue flames.

Before the two monks could say anything, John was rushing towards the heater trying to calmly defuse the situation. “Goodness, what in God’s name was that? It’s about time we had this old piece of junk replaced.”

A third monk came in as John was bent down tinkering with the heater. “Father Stilinski, there’s someone here to speak with you.”

He groaned as he stood, telling the two remaining monks to clean up before the service starts. “And Scott? Fix Stiles’ scrapes, okay?”

\--

“So you’re moving into the dorm, huh?” Stiles broke the silence as Scott carefully wrapped the wounds on his hand. He watched in mild interest as the puppy-eyed boy worked diligently.

“Well since school starts next week,” Scott explained. “Tomorrow I’ll be saying goodbye to fifteen years in this place.”

“So I guess this means this is the last time you’ll be patching me up?” Stiles said with a soft smile as Scott cut the tape he was using.

Scott laughed. “When I become a doctor, I’ll give you all the treatments you want. For a fee, of course.” Stiles narrowed his eyes playfully.

“Being a doctor’s always been your dream, hasn’t it?” Stiles asked rhetorically as Scott finished up the wrapping on his hand. His face lit up as he looked at his younger brother’s pride at the wrapping. “Then go for it, Scott! I’m sure you’re gonna make it big time! “

“Did you miss the part where I said I was going to charge you, Stiles?” Scott shot back with a shy smile on his face. “Listen, you’re gonna be alright without me, aren’t you?”

“What up with that?” Stiles groaned, his face falling slightly. “Are you going to lecture me, too?”

“I’m just worried, that’s all,” Scott tried. His voice carried his frustrations as he tried to keep eye contact with Stiles. “It’s not just me, either. Dad’s worried, too, and so is everyone else here. I mean, you’re getting into fights everyday and you can’t seem to hold a part time job for very long.”

Stiles looked down at his bandaged hands as he sighed. “Look, I’m stressed by all that, too, Scott. I know I’ve got to pull it together, and fast. But I…”

His mind flashed back to earlier that day as he saw Matt Daehler and his lackeys shooting pigeons on the tennis court. He shivered, thinking about how he couldn’t help but walk up to them and punch Daehler right in the face.

“I’m sure you’re just being tested in a way, Stiles,” Scott allowed, pulling him back to the present.

“By who?”

“God, of course,” Scott said back, a soft smile on his face as he looked up at his older brother.

Stiles groaned. “You know, you’re starting to sound just like the old man.”

Scott let out a laugh but the monks from earlier interrupted what he was going to say next, coming through brandishing a poster between the two of them. It looked like they tore it from a street post and Stiles groaned as he saw that it was advertising open positions.

“Stiles, we saw that they’re hiring part time positions at the super market,” they started, almost in unison as they pushed the poster into his face. “We took the liberty to call and they want to interview you right now!”

“What?” Stiles shouted, shoving the poster out of his face. “You called them without telling me?!”

“You better hurry!” one monk smirked. He threw a box at Stiles who flailed to catch it as it hit him in the chest. “You can wear my old suit.”

“I have to wear a suit to interview for a part-time job?” Stiles said, a look of bewilderment on his face. He pulled away from Scott as the monks were a flurry of getting him ready and handing him clothing items. They handed him a map and his resume, pushing him out the door before he can get his tie wrangled. He was still struggling with his tie as he ran into his father outside the gates.

“Thank you for your time, Father,” he heard a woman say, and he looked up to see a mother and her young daughter. The girl looked like she was probably about 5 or so, hands clinging tightly to her mother’s skirt as she looked up at the priest with wide eyes.

Stiles watched silently as his father bent down, putting his hand on top of the little girl’s head. He smiled as he started talking directly to her. “You’re very fortunate you know. You have parents you can depend on right by your side. If you’re ever frightened all you have to do is call for your mother and father. And if that doesn’t work, then exorcists like us will always be here to step in.”

The little girl smiled up at him, and the family stepped away as Stiles came up behind his father chuckling to himself.

“Pretty tough gig,” he started, watching as the family got further away from their gates. “Being an exorcists and all, I mean. Your job is to vanquish things that don’t even exist.”

“Those demons do exist,” his father stated back, crossing his arms. “They exist within the darkest reaches of our souls.”

“That’s bull,” Stiles laughed back. “You’re just a glorified guidance counselor.”

“Never mind that,” John said quietly. “Tell me. Why are you wearing a suit?”

“You see, they hounded me to go this interview, so…” Stiles side eyed his father, who looks amused.

“No neck tie?”

“Going tieless is in!” Stiles tried, stuttering out a response at first. “For your information this is very fashionable right now!”

John just grinned down at Stiles as he rambled on more defenses. “And to think you were so cute as a child, going ‘Daddy, Daddy, play with me.’”

“That was a long time ago!” Stiles groaned, flushing red. “I’m a grown up now!”

“Grown up?” the priest mocked, puts his hand over his eyes and checking over his shoulder. “I don’t see any grownups here!”

“Oh, knock it off, you old fart!” Stiles groaned as his father laughed at his expense. He spun around, stomping the rest of the way out the gate and towards the location on the map they had circled three times with a star and the words “HERE STILES” written on top of it.

\--

“Stiles Stilinski, age 16,” the interviewer started, holding up his resume in front of him. “You only have a junior high diploma and you want to work?”

“Well since I don’t really like school and all,” Stiles started, nervously smiling at the lady in front of him. He took in her pink, fuzzy sweater and the heavy lines around her eyes, trying to gauge what kind of person she was going to be. The butterfly pin on her sweater looked so realistic that he was convinced it was a real bug staring up at him.

“If you think you can get by in life being picky about everything,” the stout lady shouted at him, flicking his resume as she spoke, “you’re in for a rude awakening, mister.”

“Yeah, you have a point,” Stiles smiled forcibly, rubbing at the back of his head with his hand. He watched anxiously as she sized him up before standing up and pointing outside her office. He glanced out before she threw an apron at his head.

“For starters, bring all of the boxes in the backroom and stack them up outside the store.”

“You mean, all of them?” he asked with wide eyes, looking at the boxes stacked to the ceiling just outside.

“Too much for you?” the lady asked, eyes narrowing.

“No, I’ll do it!” Stiles shot back quickly, scurrying out of her office and to the stack twice his height. He sized up the stack for a second, rubbing his hands nervously on his pants before shrugging and going to pick up half the stack in front of him.

He grunted as he realized their weight, but pushed through, determined to get the job. The other two workers in the backroom watched with wide eyes as Stiles picked up boxes above his head, shuffling backwards to walk them outside as if they didn’t weigh more than himself. The rest of the employees gathered to watch in the next five minutes as Stiles did the impossible and moved what should have required a forklift and a couple of hours.

“What….?” The manager muttered when she saw the stack outside not ten minutes later. Stiles shrugged, looking down at his feet sheepishly. He watched her left eye twitch as she tried to figure out how he could have possibly done that so quickly.

 _What?_ Stiles thought. _I’m in shape, right?_

“You’re hired.”

\--

“What? They hired you?” he heard Scott’s shock through the phone. He tried not to be bitter, as he stared down at his feet in the parking lot.

“Yeah, they want me to start tomorrow,” Stiles responded, looking up at the super market.

“Congratulations, Stiles! Good job!” The praise sounded like genuine excitement and Stiles couldn’t help but smile. “I’m really, really glad I got this good news before I leave.”

“Hey, come on,” Stiles laughed. “What’s up with the crying?”

Scott laughed, denying it, and they hung up with Stiles promising to get home soon. He turned to leave when he saw the little girl from before running through the parking lot after her scarf.

“Please! Give it back!” she screamed, tripping over her feet as she tried to catch the scarf that caught in the wind. Stiles jumped out to grab it, smiling down at the little girl as he held it proudly in front of him. The little girl looked up in fear, though, her eyes fixed on the end of her scarf. Blinking in confusion he looked down at the fabric again, jumping when he swear he saw something materialize at the end.

The creature clinging to the cloth he was holding was made up of a round body, green with long limbs protruding. Its oversized claws were dug into the end of the scarf and when it pulled harder, the material slipped through Stile’s grasp. He stepped back in shock, trying to rationalize what the creature was. As it zipped by him, he reacted without thinking, trailing after it as it dipped into the grocery store.

“Come back here!” he gritted, bursting through the doors and scanning the isles to see where it went.

Spotting it zipping towards the freezer section, he sprinted after it, muttering apologies as he accidentally bumped into a lady on the way. He skidded around a corner as he tried to get his hands on the creature or the scarf, whatever he could hit first, and didn’t realize until too late that he was about to run head first into a full display.

The display crashed down on top of him as it gets away. He cursed, but silenced as he looked up to see his boss fuming above him.

\--

“I thought I could find you here.”

The swings croaked in protest as Stiles kicked his feet through the dirt. The cold metal chains felt numb in his hands as he looked down at the dirt covering the bottom of his borrowed suit.

“The food will be all gone,” he heard Scott say about a foot away from him. “Let’s go home.”

“I wouldn’t be able to face anyone there if I went home,” Stiles muttered, not looking up.

“What are you talking about?”

“I got fired,” Stiles admitted quietly. He closed his eyes, his forehead wrinkling up in shame. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Scott next to him. “She said they couldn’t have a violent thug like me in her store.”

“What happened, Stiles?”

He saw the creature from earlier in his head – _was it a monkey?_ – and shook it out of his mind, turning to Scott in frustration. “I don’t even know myself.”

“Oh come on,” Scott said, raising his voice. “Don’t give me that crap. Everyone was so happy that you’d finally found a job, Stiles! So how could you? How could you drop the ball like that?”

Stiles growled, his hands tightening on the swing chains. “Even if I could explain, there are things you can’t understand!”

Scott flinched, taking a small step back.

“Sorry,” Stiles apologized, deflating.

After a beat of silence, Scott reached forward. “Anyway, why don’t we head home now? I know Dad’s waiting.”

Stiles stood after a second, leaving the swing swaying behind him as he followed his little brother back to the monetary. When they walked through the gate, Stiles could just make out two figures standing on the porch to the main church. From the sounds of their conversation, he identified one as being his father, but his eyes widened when the other man said his name.

“You’re Stiles, right?” the man asked, his eyes kind. Stiles glanced down to see the girl from the supermarket clinging to the man’s legs like she had to her mother’s skirt earlier. “I’m her father. I don’t know how to thank you for what you’ve done for her.”

“Is she alright?” Stiles started, feeling Scott a step behind.

“Thanks to you, she only got a few scrapes.”

Stiles smiled, bending down to look the little girl in the eyes. She smiled shyly, hiding further behind her father.

“She’s always been a scatterbrained kid,” her dad started again as Stiles felt his smile fall. “Tripping, falling down stairs. She’s never without a fresh scrape.”

“You’re wrong,” Stiles heard himself start before he could stop. “It’s not that she’s scatterbrained. She’s being picked on! He’s like pulling her hair, snatching things away from her…you know?”

“You saw this?” he heard John ask from behind him, slight shock in his voice.

The girl’s father spoke up before Stiles could think about his father’s statement. “Can you describe him?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted. “It was like something I’ve never seen before. He was short, with a face like a monkey…”

The father grimaced and started to pull the little girl along with him. Stiles heard him mutter out, “Unbelievable.”

“Where are you going?” Father Stilinski called out.

Without stopping, the father replied, “To the school. I need to contact the PTA and find out who this is that’s been bullying my daughter.”

Stiles watched as the girl pulled against her father’s arm. “You don’t understand!”

That makes the man stop, turning around to look worriedly down at his daughter.

“I’m not being bullied by humans from my school,” the girl started, her voice small but strong. “It’s the evil fairies!”

_Fairies?_

“They come into my room at night and make all kinds of messes,” the girl admitted, tilting her face down to the ground in embarrassment. “Now they’re even doing it outside the house!”

Her father sighed, looking back at the family. “She’s a child with a vivid imagination, you see…I’m afraid I’ve heard these fairy tales from her too many times. Lately, it’s been as if she can’t determine what’s daydreams and what’s real life.”

“But they’re not daydreams!” Stiles said, feeling anger course through him suddenly. He ignored his father’s protests. “Why don’t you just believe her? Who’s she supposed to rely on if her own parents won’t believe her?”

His father hit him on the head, cutting him off as he walked forward to the small family. He handed a charm on the girl, a little clover in a sealed jar. “This will protect you.” The girl nodded reverently, and John then directed his gaze to the father. “Sir, I urge you not to reproach your daughter. There is no one else in the world she relies on as much as you.”

The man looked down at the girl, his frustration breaking slightly, before nodding and pulling her along outside the gate.

Stiles grumbled from his spot on the porch, rubbing at the place where John had hit his head moments before.

“It’s about a million years too early for you to start lecturing people, Stiles,” John started, turning back to the two brothers on the porch. “And by the way, you’re grounded for the foreseeable future.”

Stiles let out a groan of protest. “Huh? Why?”

“Your ex-boss from that part-time job just stopped by and left this,” John started, a small smirk on his face. He dropped a receipt in the hands of his son, who looked down to see a bill for all the damage he had done to the store in his ‘fairy’ chase.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Stiles started, bringing the receipt closer to his face as his father and younger brother walked into the monastery before him.

\--

Sunlight streamed through Stiles’ bedroom window, morning light illuminating the dust particles floating through the air. Rolling over only partially awake, Stiles let his eyes fall onto Scott’s bed across the room, noting that it was empty already. He groaned softly, swinging his legs out of bed.

“Man, that’s cold,” he muttered, staring at Scott’s side of the room. “Couldn’t even say goodbye in person?”

He climbed out of bed, absently scratching at his stomach, the red sweater he wore to sleep riding up. Making his way to the window, he yawned as he took a glance outside, mind still not entirely running for the day.

The sight of the sky full of little black creatures had him gasping as he stepped back in shock. He watched openmouthed as a few trailed closer to the window, seemingly blown by the breeze. Small, dark balls of a body with a trailing thin black tail, the creatures were no bigger than moths.

But there were thousands of them, as far as he could see across the monastery yard. Rushing outside as quickly as he could, he batted them away from his face, sprinting towards the monastery gates. The people outside the gates didn’t seem phased, though, as if nothing was happening outside of the ordinary.

 _How come nobody else sees them?_ Stiles thought, wide eyes watching them floating among the people passing by.

“Stilinski, my friend,” he heard, pulling him out of the shock slightly. His head snapped to see Matt Daehler outside the gates, surrounding by three lackeys this time. The black creatures seemed to be buzzing more quickly around his head, swarming like moths to a light. “Do you have a second?”

He hesitated, thinking of what his father had said about him being grounded.

“What’s the matter, Stilinski?” Matt taunted. Stiles could see that his eye was patched up from where his fist had slammed into him yesterday. “Turn chicken on us? Gonna go hide behind your daddy?”

Stiles’ brow furrowed and he stepped forward, following them with a serious expression. Daehler laughed, but led the group away from the monastery.

“Sorry about yesterday, okay?” Daehler shouted over his shoulder, turning into an alley not too far from the church. “I was only playing with those pigeons, see? My hand slipped and well…”

 _What’s going on with this guy?_ Stiles thought frantically, watching with careful eyes. The black creatures hadn’t left the area surrounding him, still zipping around his being.

“Anyway, I wanna know how much you want.” Matt started again, a smirk on his lips. “My parents are kinda famous, you see? And, as for me, I’m about to enroll in True Cross Academy. So I don’t want any unsavory rumors roaming around.”

“You mean you’re going to the same prestigious school as Scott?” Stiles shot back, his held tilting slightly to the side with his eyes still narrowed. “I can see how that would be a problem.”

“Now you’ve got it,” Matt smiled. “So consider it hush money. I’ll buy your silence. You just have to keep this issue between you and me.”

“Huh,” Stiles shot, shoulders shrugging slightly as he dug his hands into the pockets of his hoody. “You really threw me a curve ball there. Keep your money. I won’t tell.”

Stiles turned around, smirk on his face.

“Oh, what is that, bravado?” Matt sneered, making Stiles stop, ears trained behind him. “Just take the money like a good boy. Everyone knows you’re so damn poor you can’t even get into that school without help. Yeah that brother of yours, Scott, is it? He only got into that school by cramming like hell and winning a scholarship, right? In other words, he’s in debt! I feel for you.”

Stiles swung around, fist already aimed to connect with Matt’s face. As it connected and he felt Daehler fall, he spat out, “You scumbag, you can say whatever you want about me but never talk about my brother!”

“Man, that hurts,” Daehler groaned from the ground, face covered in his hands as he crouched. “I wouldn’t push my luck if I were you!”

His hands flew away and Matt reared up, fangs dropped in his mouth. His face was contorted in rage, and the black creatures that had been surrounded him surged up and away from him, aimed towards Stiles. Stiles raised a hand in protection against them as Matt’s hands convulsed and claws formed.

“You’re….you’re not human,” Stiles whispered, watching as horns seemed to materialize on the sides of Daehler’s head. He had a passing thought about how they were curled like ram’s horns before Matt’s lackeys pushed him to the ground forcefully. He gritted out, “Damnit, why doesn’t anyone else see this?”

“An eye for an eye…A tooth for a tooth as they say,” Daehler smirked, cracking his neck. He reached behind him, pulling a steaming pipe off the wall, it breaking easily under his grasp. Stiles shuddered as steam escaped the broken pipe, Daehler approaching him with the hot pipe. “I’m gonna give you back twice the pain that you caused me. Now where would you like me to burn you?”

He gripped Stiles’ hair, pulling at his roots as he bent down in front of him, the pipe inches from his face. “A human barbeque!”

“Stop it!” Stiles shouted, flinching back as far as he could. He felt the hot rage inside his stomach boil up. “Get away from me!”

The next thing he knew, everything exploded in blue flames. The men holding him down were forcibly thrown backwards, Matt being knocked back as well.

 _What the hell?_ Stiles thought, looking down at his glowing blue hand. The flames surrounded it, but it didn’t feel like it was hot. _It’s…I’m burning. What the hell?_

Daehler’s lackeys regained enough of themselves to shout in fear, running from the alley and Stiles, who was still engulfed in the blue flames. He looked ahead to see Daehler unharmed, standing a few feet away. When their eyes met, Daehler smiled, striding forward. “Those blue flames are indeed proof that you are the spawn of Satan.”

Unflinching in face of flames, Matt continued. “My name is Astaroth. Come with me, my young prince. Lord Satan has long awaited you.”

“S-Satan?” Stiles quivered, looking up at the extended hand that Matt was offering. His mind was rushing, trying to process everything that was happening.

“Evils are in their hearts.”

His head snapped up to see his father behind them, stepping forward while continuing in his prayer. “O Lord, give to them according to their works that the wickedness of their inventions, according to the works of their hands give thou to them: render to them their reward. Thou shalt destroy them, and shalt not build them up…”

Matt growled, his stance forming in battle. “Damn you, exorcist!”

John continued, the smile on his face verging on a smirk. “Blessed be the Lord!”

“I’ll rip that mouth of yours apart, so you can never utter such spells again,” Matt spat, his mouth tearing apart ferociously. He started rushing forward, eyes fixed with rage at the exorcist in front of him.

“For he hath heard the voice of my supplication,” the priest continued as he dodged the attacks of Matt. “The Lord is my helper and my protector.” Twisting Daehler’s unprotected arm over his back, John managed to trip the demon to the ground. Without a second of hesitation he shouted, “Thou shalt perish!”

As the words left his mouth, Daehler’s head bent back in agony, mouth splaying wide as darkness spilled out of him into the alley. He shook as it left him, dissipating immediately as his head fell back limply and John let him drop to the ground. Stiles could still see his shallow breathing as his father turned to him.

“Are you alright?” John asked.

“Wait, never mind me,” he started, his voice quiet in shock. “Is that guy gonna be all right?”

“I exorcised the demon who had possessed him,” John explained calmly. “He’ll come to in a moment.”

“Demon?” Stiles breathed, eyes wide as he looked at the unconscious body of the boy in front of him.

“You can see them now, too, can’t you?” John asked, blowing away one of the little black gnat creatures that had floated close to his face.

Stiles recoiled from the ones closest to him. “All of these are demons, too?”

“They’re called Coal Tar. They possess fungi,” John explained as Stiles scraped quickly at his sweater, trying to dislodge anything that might have attached itself to him. “They’re attracted to dark, dank places as well as introverted humans.”

Stiles looked up as John continued to explain, “This world is comprised of two dimensions joined as one, like a mirror. One is the material world we live in -- Assiah. The other is the empty realm inhabited by the demons – Gehenna. Normally there can be no contact between these two diverse dimensions, never mind traveling between them. But having possessed all material substances in this world, the demons are now intruding upon us. Now stand up. Thanks to this uproar, they have learned of your awakening. Doubtless, demons of all species will come after you for every kind of reason now. We need to hide before that comes to pass.”

“Hold on,” Stiles started, seeming to gain back his voice after staring up at his father helplessly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! What demons? And what the hell do you mean by awakening? Just what the hell am I, anyway?”

“You’re not human, Stiles,” John started, a sad expression passing on his face. Stiles face dropped, his mouth opening. “You are the son of a demon, borne by a human woman.”

Stiles gasped, but before he can say anything in response, the loud formation of something in the darkness next to them made both father and son turn their heads. Out of the swarm of Coal Tars, something seemed to be forming. Stiles looked on in fear, flinching as his father came to pull him to his feet.

“Not just any demon, either, son,” John continued. “The demon of all demons. You are the offspring of Satan.”


End file.
